


Hold me till the rain stops pouring

by Mouse (clandestineAbattoir)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: ? - Freeform, Drug Use, F/M, Humanstuck, Kankri and cronus start as like 14, M/M, Misgendering, Smoking, Trans Characters, and gets into some heavy shit guys, because thats a thing, did i mention kankri is trans, high schoolstuck, i needed more damarakankri friendship so i made some myself, kankri is a good brother, kurkri is probably gonna happen, meenahs a few years older than all of them, rape is mentioned in the first chapter, the maryams vantases and lejions are siblings, this is a bunch of instances, underage drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7788460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestineAbattoir/pseuds/Mouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kankri centric</p>
<p>Kankri vantas lives in a five story apartment complex. He has four younger younger siblings and one older sister. His neighbor Cronus is his best friend and is probably gonna give himself lung cancer from how much he smokes. He has the slightest crush on his other neighbor, Latula. He has another family that he hangs out with after school. Life is hard when you've got no one to hold your hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September 2010

September, 2010 

Kankri Vantas was sitting on the torn, beige canvas cushion of his sofa swing that sat in the backyard of the apartment complex he lived in, tears streaming down the pale face that was flushed red in fury and grief. His short, unfiled fingernails were scratching angrily at the raised patches of red skin that had appeared on his chubby, pale thighs. Fucking emotional hives.  
He couldn’t get what had happened off of his mind. Couldn’t stop thinking about the rough touches of one of his father’s drinking buddies all over his body. The way it had hurt. The way he had called him a “pretty little slut”, and said he was a “good girl” as the breath that smelled of cigarettes and beer washed over his nostrils, trapping his senses and grounding him onto the creaky mattress. He felt dirty and used. But it was worth it, he supposed. His four younger siblings would never know the hunger or longing he and Porrim had, never ache with a desperate craving for attention from their father. And if Kankri had to sell his body to his father’s despicable, unshaven friends to keep it that way, so be it. Besides, he thought bitterly to himself as he scratched at a particularly nasty spot, he should be used to this by now.  
He pushed his shorts up a bit further on his thighs to scratch at a new place of furious red welts, hating the way his nails peeled away at his skin and left the new skin pink and stinging as it came into contact with the humid, early autumn air, and sometimes even bleeding if he was particularly upset, but did he actually really care? Not that much.  
He looked up when he saw black Doc Martins through his tear blurred vision, only to be greeted with a face full of menthol cigarette smoke that filled his lungs like an old, friend that poisoned him with bitter, seething hatred. He coughed and waved it away from his face, earning a “sorry Kanny,” from the source of the smoke. It was his neighbor, Cronus, with his slicked back ginger black hair and stupid leather jacket.  
“I hope you know you’re destroying your lungs, you’re not even old enough to legally smoke yet either,” he reminded his friend for the millionth time.  
“Vwatewver,” Cronus waved off his warning for the millionth time as he sat down next to Kankri, making the swing creak unsteadily in a way that made Kankri’s stomach turn.  
The two sat in silence for a moment, studying the small, unkempt yard. The single sad, lonely tree was leafless and dying, roots already starting to rot in the ground next to the alleyway. The sidewalk that led from the bottom of the sagging wooden stairs that knocked and came loose if you went to fast was cracked and completely missing in some places. It was a depressing sight to look at. Just like the two fourteen year olds sitting on the sofa swing, one smoking away his good health in a pitiful attempt to look cool and be accepted and one covered in welts and hives and tears.  
After a few minutes of the heavy silence that was expanding pressing on the chests of the two, Cronus was the one to break the silence, taking a long drag of his cigarette before speaking.  
“So, you read any good books lately?” he asked, just as desperate to avoid the glaringly obvious problem as Kankri was, and Kankri was grateful that he didn’t address it outright like his younger brother probably would have.  
“Actually I just finished one the other day. It was called A Corner of the Universe, I believe, and it was a beautiful portrayal of the way that mentally ill people are treated unfairly by not only their peers and outsiders, but by their very own family. It also very elegantly handles the way that people that are different do not have to separated from each other and even become close. It also deals with privilege and money and how poorly it is oftentimes handled. Generally just a beautiful book. I highly recommend you read it,” he rambled.  
Cronus blinked at Kankri is shock for a couple seconds before speaking, “Uh… vwhats’s the actual book about, chief?”  
“A girl who’s mentally disabled uncle’s institution closes and so he is sent back home to live with his rich parents who refuse to check their privilege and he becomes best friends with her over their shared love of I Love Lucy and the uncle develops a crush on one of the tenants of her parent’s boarding house and they also befriend a girl from a traveling carnival.”  
“Sounds… Interesting…” Cronus said, taking another drag of his cigarette, purposefully blowing the smoke away from Kankri, for which he was very grateful, “I’ll see if i can find it at the library.”  
He put his cigarette out on the cushion, adding yet another burn hole to the many that were already gathered near that same spot.  
“So, did you meet the new neighbor girl yet?” Cronus asked him, raising a perfectly waxed eyebrow.  
“No actually, I can’t say I have. When did she move in?” Kankri inquired, tilting his head.  
“Just a few days ago I think. She’s real pretty. Puerto Rican or something like that. Her little sister’s blind but she gets around pretty vwell anywvays.”  
Kankri narrowed his eyes at the ginger greaser suspiciously, looking into his icy blue eyes for any signs of guilt, “How do you already know that much about her? This isnt going to be a repeat of Meenah is it Cronus?”  
“Oh god no Kanny, it ain't like that at all. I don't evwen like the girl that much. I just ran into her in the hallvway wvhen she wvas movwin in the other day. I told ya, I’vwe mellovwed out since that happened. Gotten in touch vwith my sensitivwe side,” he was quick to defend himself.  
The ‘Meenah Incident’, as it was called by anyone who was there when it happened, was a sore spot for both teens. Meenah, who was sixteen at the time, was a girl who used to live in the house next to the five story apartment building they lived in. She had seemed to not only take an interest in Cronus, but also in Karkat, Kankri’s brother who was seven. Cronus, who had an alcoholic father and an absentee mother, wasn’t quite sure what to do with all this affection and ended up being in a relationship with her, which later turned into him being at her side almost constantly as she manipulated him. Luckily, Kankri saw all of this happening and not only called the cops for pedophelia because dear god Cronus was only twelve what the fuck, he slapped Cronus hard enough with reality that he saw what was happening and got out of that. Generally the entire situation was very chaotic.  
“But anyvway, you should meet her. I think shes your type,” Cronus waggled his eyebrows at his friend.  
“Cronus oh my god no,” Kankri said, facepalming.  
“But she totally is.”  
“But I totally can’t date.”  
“... Oh yeah. Forgot that part,” Cronus said, looking away.  
“Whats her name anyway?” Kankri questioned.  
“Er… Latula I think…” Cronus informed him unsurely.  
“Well if I run into her I’ll talk to her.”

He did in fact run into latula the next day while he was on his way to school. He had been so absorbed in staring at the cracked sidewalk as he walked that the albino boy didn’t even notice her leaning against the tree, and ended up tripping over her red rain boots. It wasn’t even raining. It was sunny and the driest day of the season.  
He hit the ground with a thud and a soft “oof,” landing on his hands and knees, narrowly avoiding getting a facefull of dirt. He heard obnoxious, mocking laughter that made his cheeks burn in embarrassment as he scrambled to get up, dusting some of the dirt that had clung to his cherry red sweater when he fell. The woman he had tripped over was standing just a bit taller than him, black hair choppy and down to her shoulders. The shirt she was wearing was loose and teal and had some sort of blocky tribal print on it. The looseness did nothing to hide the fact that her bust was far larger than average, or the way her hips curved out widely.  
“You OK there little guy?” she asked, humor gleaming in her shocking green-blue eyes.  
Kankri huffed at being called little, it pissed him off. He didn’t like feeling inferior to anyone in anyway at all.  
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much,” he informed her, “now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going so I’m not late to class.”  
As he was walking off, she called out at him.  
“I’m Latula!”  
“...My name is Kankri,” he called back before running for the bus.


	2. November 2010

November 2010  
Kankri was sitting in the hallway outside the one gender neutral bathroom his school had. His his hood was up, hiding his face from the rest of the world as he idly inspected his fingernails. There was dirt under them, as always. He had never really had the time or energy to care about personal hygiene past showering.   
He glanced at the clock that was on the yellow painted brick wall of the perpetually frigid school, sighing to himself. It was already five o’clock. Where was Cronus? He had promised he would meet him here by four thirty.   
“Probably off harassing Mituna again,” he mumbled to himself bitterly.  
Over the past few months, Kankri’s childhood friend had made a habit of ditching Kankri in order to bully the kids in the special ed program and fit in with the ‘cool kids’, leaving Kankri to fend for himself. Exactly what he promised he would never do. Oh well, it's not like he hadn’t saw this one coming, he thought to himself. He got up, gathering his things and shoving them haphazardly into his grey, tattered backpack that had a broken zipper on the side pocket, only to stop when he saw someone approaching him. Oh, he recognized this girl. Her name was Damara. She was wearing a short skirt and a button up red blouse, her feet bare as her heels were clutched in her left hand. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and her eyes were mean, cold, and trained on Kankri.  
Kankri looked at her, red eyes blown wide in a deer in the headlights stare as she looked him over.   
“Vantas, correct?” he speech was broken and heavily accented. Of course, she was from Japan, he reminded himself in his head.  
“Yes, that would be me,” he informed her.  
“Your friend looking for you. Told me to go get you,” she told him, gesturing with her head to follow before walking off.   
He gathered his things and sped up so he was walking alongside her, trying to make some sort of small talk, but not quite sure how. Would it be offensive to mention that she was from Japan? Better not risk it. Where was she taking her anyway? And why did Cronus tell her to get him instead of just getting him himself?  
“Er… If I may ask, why did Cronus not just come get me himself?” he voiced his question to her.  
She shrugged casually, “He busy liplocking with some girl name Jane.”  
“...Oh”  
Kankri processed this new information. He had heard of Jane. In fact, Cronus had mentioned her before. Said she was cute and good at baking. Well, good for him, he supposed.  
“You smoke?” Damara’s abrupt question knocked him out of his thoughts as she offered him something that looked suspiciously like a joint. He shook his head. He had promised himself he wouldn’t go down that path.   
“Oh well, your loss,” she said as she opened one of the doors that was hidden in a corner of the high school. The cold November air hit him hard, the dampness of the air permeating his hoodie easily as he stepped outside with Damara. He glanced around. He had never been here before. The entire little area was shrouded by hedges and overgrowth, and there was a little card table and some chairs set up, probably by another student. There were a few other people there, some smoking, some playing pokemon and- oh there was Cronus.   
The boy in question was sat on one of the green folding chairs, a slightly heavy, pale brunette girl sat in his lap. She was wearing a blue dress with white polka dots that did not look like it was made for this weather. Kankri felt kinda bad for her.   
He noticed Damara approach one of the other boys that was there. He was one of the ones in the corner playing pokemon, along with an asian boy who was wearing goggles, for some odd reason. She passed her joint to him and he took a long inhale of it, giving it back to her before noticing Kankri and smiling warmly. It was the kind of smile that belonged to your grandma when she was making you cookies, not a teen who was smoking weed behind his school and hed the tips of his odd mowhawk that was split into three dyed red.   
“Hello, I’m Rufioh. Whats your name?” he said.   
“I’m Kankri,” he introduced himself.  
“Well, welcome to the family then Kankri,” he said, still smiling.  
Family? Kankri looked aorund again. Everyone here did seem to have an odd sense of familarity with eachother. But did Kankri really want to intrude in that? What if they ended up not wanting him.   
It seemed that his doubts had showed upon his face, because Rufioh spoke again.  
“Hey, whats up? There something bothering you?”  
“Oh, its nothing I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he was quick to brush it off. Too quick apparently.   
“Hey, dude, its OK, we don’t like… bite or anything…” Rufioh assured him, standing and --oh he was quite a bit taller than Kankri ok -- putting a firm hand on kankri’s shoulder and looking him in the eyes. Rufioh’s eyes were large and a shade of brown that reminded him of autumn.   
Kankri sighed.  
“If… you say so…”  
At that moment, Damara handed her joint off to a Korean looking girl with a bob cut who was showing way too much cleavage for this time of year and walked over to the two.   
“Rufioh. Stop make new kid uncomfortable. You ask before touch people stupid,” she chastised him, whacking him on the head lightly.  
He immediately took his hand off Kankris shoulder, and relief immediately washed over him. The nausea that had over taken him backed off and went into hibernation for the time being.   
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cronus finally stop macking on the other girl and look over his way.   
“Oh hey Kanny, howv long you been here?”  
The girl slid out of his lap, face red from blushing nd hair a little messed up, and Cronus walked over, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket that were no doubt filled with gum wrappers and cigarette butts.  
“So, I see ya met Rufioh. Hes pretty chill. You knovw Damara obvwiously. Be careful around those heels ‘a hers theyre pretty deadly,” he winced as if he were remembering som unpleasant experience, “the girl ovwer there,” he pointed to the korean girl who Damara had handed the joint to, “is Aranea. I think you’ll like her. She talks almost as much as you do. The kid wvith the goggles is Horuss. And the lovwely lady I vwas gettin my mack on vwith earlier is Jane,” he looked over at Jane and winked, causing the short girl to giggle quietly, and kankri to roll his eyes.   
“Anyvway, vwelcome to the family, Kanny.”


	3. February 2010

February 2010

Kankri was sitting at a small, pink table in the very back corner, fourth cup of espresso clutched in his hands as he stared at the rain through the window. His laptop was set in front of him, the cursor stopped halfway through a sentence of his unfinished, blinking at him insistently. Something about Shakespeare's remarkable ability to be a major fucking douche to his characters like seriously man just let them live their lives. The cafe was mainly empty, most people off at fancy, expensive restaurants making obnoxious declarations of temporary love and getting drunk off of old fruit. But not Kankri. Kankri was above all that. He didn’t need love. He was perfectly content with being alone.   
The bell hanging on the cafe door jingled shyly as someone entered, causing the fifteen year old to look up from his coffee mug. It was Damara. She was wearing a nice dress, her hair out of is usual bun and cascading down her back gracefully, her makeup making her look porcelain and flawless.   
She spotted Kankri and a look of relief flashed across her features. Why was that?  
She made her way over to him, heels clicking on the grey stone tiles. She sat down in the seat across from him.   
“Good, I hoping I find you here. You always hidden, always hard to find. But I always find you when needed,” she said.   
He noticed her usually dark, sharp eyeliner was noticeably smudged. As if she had been wiping away tears. He wondered why that was.   
“You seem upset, Damara. Why is that..? … It's something to do with Rufioh, isn’t it? That's why you needed to find me?” he raised an eyebrow, leaning forward a bit to look her dead in the eyes. The way her expression softened around the edges told him all he needed to know.   
“I find Rufioh with Horuss. They kissing. Rufioh spout lies. Say it misunderstanding. But I know. I know it not,” she said, her expression nothing but serious and detached.   
Kankri sighed, saving his work quickly and closing his laptop.   
“Well, and don't tell anyone I ever actually said this out loud because I have a reputation to keep up, but I think they need to get the dildos out of their asses and realize that they fucked up,” he said, smiling when he got a chuckle out of Damara.   
“You want come sleep over at my place?” Damara invited him.  
“I can’t. My dad’s having some drinking buddies over and I promised I’d be there in case… well you know,” he said, his voice dropping a few volume levels as he neared the end of his sentence.  
Damara sighed.   
“I don’t understand why you keep do this. He is a despicable man. Just fucking run already. Don’t look back,” she said, stealing his espresso and taking a sip, leaving a dark lipstick print on the rim of the cup.  
Kankri sighed, fiddling with the worn red sleeve of his sweater.   
“You know it’s not that simple, Dams. I’ve got to take care of my siblings. Karkat, especially,” he said.  
“Take Karkat with you,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.   
“I can’t just do that Damara. Our dad is kind to Karkat. He would be upset if he were to be taken away like that. Besides, he’s close to his other siblings too. It would be unfair to-”   
“Kanny. Listen to me. Live for self, otherwise you get nowhere. Get in position where you no in danger. Then you can be good brother. Ok?” She grabbed his hand urgently, preventing him from leaving just yet.   
He sighed.   
“I’ll… Think about it. But for now I actually should really get going,” he said and yanked his hand away, gathering his things and walking out into the downpour.   
By the time he got home, he was soaking wet, cold water dripping from his white hair onto the floor. He slammed the door shut, not even trying to hide the fact that, yes he was here. The hardwood of the floor creaked too much for any semblance of stealth to be remotely possible. And he was bitter so he figured why even bother.   
“If you break my window im gonna beat your sorry ass,” he heard his father call out gruffly from the living room at the other end of the poorly lit hallway.   
“More like soggy ass,” he mumbled to himself as he leaned against the cigarette smoke coated, homeless guy tooth yellow walls to take off his soaking converse.   
“Ey yo Katie,” one of his fathers drinking buddies, arguably the most clean shaven, white collar of the bunch, shouted, “why don’t you get you cute ass in here?”  
Kankri sighed, quickly ducking into the bedroom that was right off the back door and stripping off his soaking binder and sweater, clasping on a lacy black bra and a fushia halter top that made his insides protest and his heart beat just a little bit faster and making his way into the cluttered living room that was lit only by a Joey Ramone prayer candle. There was a plastic, round card table set up in the center, five men having piles of cards and poker chips in their hands and surrounding them, empty cans of beer littering the unmopped floor at their feet. At the far end of the table was his father, as albino as he and karkat were, his red eyes unforgiving, just like the devil’s. To his left was Tom, the man who had called to Kankri earlier. He was white and working class, his tie red tie discarded into the table in front of him. To the left of Tom, was Jim. A car mechanic with a great hairy beer belly and perpetually grease stained, perpetually calloused hands. Next to Jim, sat Boris. He was pretty huge and muscular. He was a gym trainer. He’d broken three of their chairs.  
“Hey Katie,” Tom said, grinning slyly, “why dontcha give us a nice lil’ show. Seein’ as it’s valentine’s day n’ all.”  
Kankri sighed. He could do this. He’d done it a hundred times before.   
He approached Tom, swaying his hips to some imaginary beat that they were no doubt playing in their minds while they imagined him naked. He walked on the balls of his feet. It made him lighter, less likely to fuck up. He bent over, ass right near Jim’s head, as he traced a finger towards the top button of Tom’s shirt.   
This went on for a while, Kankri teasing and walking and playing until one of the guys decided they’d had it, slapping a fifty on the table for Kankri’s father and picking Kankri up, carrying him to the back bedroom.   
As he was being pounded into the mattress, slow and steady in a way that tore apart his insides and made him moan in a way that he hated himself for, he thought about Damara’s words. Just run away. Leave it all behind. Take care of himself. Surely Porrim and Meulin would understand? Meulin was 14 and Porrim was 16, surely they’d be able to handle the other three young ones. After, Kanaya was turning 13 in a few days, and Nepeta was already 12. They would be growing into their own people soon. Yes, that was ok. Kankri could leave. Just go. He could do and live with himself afterwards. So he would leave.


End file.
